The River
by Midnight Unicorn
Summary: She sings a desperate lullaby, but it's already too late


She hid behind the trees as the small ship slowly moved away from the shore. She was close enough to see the two on board the ship, and certainly to hear the grumbling of the dwarf. But not one word could she make out. Couldn't.

She knew she wasn't supposed to be there, knew that her mother would worry and father would scold with the true concern fading beneath his natural laziness. But she just had to watch, would not let this pass without seeing it, not when it was this close. Couldn't.

For a moment he turned and she was afraid he'd seen her, golden hair blowing to the land, unwilling too leave behind such memories, blue eyes scanning the land where he'd lived for so long, and endured so much. But he wanted to go; in his heart he would not deny the call of the Sea any longer. Couldn't.

She had seen the look in her grandfather's eyes when he left, had seen a shadow of it in those sapphire eyes when last he came, had interpreted the late night mutters between the gray-shot-black bearded dwarf and her parents. She was always quick of mind. They always said so.

Sadly she watched her teacher sail away, wishing he would give her one last hug, tell her once more to never stop singing, to make music under Varda's eyes once more with him in duet. He would never come back. Couldn't.

She would never follow him there. Couldn't.

The white ship was moving faster now, away from her, away from his birthplace, towards his home where there was no death. Blond braids still whipped back, reaching for the shore, but the pale handsome face that was golden in the sun light, silver in the moon glow was facing another shore. With his dear friend at his side, there was nothing but nostalgia for him here.

And her, but she didn't count. Couldn't.

His brother of the heart was dead; the sister he'd never had was buried in Lothlórien, to fade from memory like all things. Those who had been like brothers were gone, his dearest friends had long ago left their children. And there were those who awaited him.

As the shape became a white speck with only his golden head and the dwarf's black beard discernible from the horizon, she didn't want to stand there any longer. Couldn't.

She broke from the trees, bare little feet pounding on the sand, splashing into the water, up to her waist. Then she stopped, feeling the weight of her dress sagging as it sopped up the water. He wouldn't be there to swing her up this time. He was too far away to see, to hear. Couldn't.

Her face was wet; must have been from the salty sea spray. She wanted one last moment, one last chance. But she didn't have it; had left it too long. Now there was nothing left to do but exist and sing.

So she did.

Tilting her head back, she opened her mouth and took in a great breath and sang the words that had never been said, but the melody had been hummed, rocking her to sleep in strong elven arms.

_The River, she is flowing_

_Flowing and growing._

_The River, she is flowing…_

_Down to the Sea._

_Mother, carry me,_

_A child I will always be._

_Mother, carry me…_

_Down to the Sea._

_>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>_

He snapped his head around so fast he was dizzy for a moment. He ignored the stinging lash of yellow hair, pushing most of it away to look back at the shore once more. Couldn't find…

There.

Only a few feet out but in up to her waist she stood, minute, but detailed to his keen azure eyes. Of course she came; he knew she would. Couldn't resist.

It was too late to turn back, and most of him did not want to, but a small part of his heart tugged as the words that had never been sung drifted to his ears, words he had not heard since his mother passed.

…_River, she is flowing…_

_Down to the Sea._

_Mother, carry me,_

_A child I will always be…_

And she was fading, her blond hair blowing back from her face, coaxing her back to land. But she would not budge until her mahogany eyes no longer found the hulk of their small ship. That girl-child who meant so much, who he would always remember. Couldn't forget…

That smile. Only she had that smile. He could picture it clearly.

"What's the matter?" Gimli's gruff voice demanded from the prow of the boat.

There was a single silver track down Legolas' cheek. "Nothing." He replied in a soft voice. "Just sea spray in my eyes."

There was no reason to stay by the shore, but she did for a long time. But as the moon began to rise, she finally left the bone-chilling water and back to the dry ground, curly blond hair matted on her feet as the little hobbit girl made her way home, knowing her star-sun mother would not mind this once.


End file.
